I saw a physical therapist a few weeks ago for some increasing knee instability I’ve been having. I fumbled with my explanation to her: no, not pain. Instability. I was careful to emphasize that my knees felt perfectly normal on my runs, and the issue was specific to climbing and descending stairs.
It took all of 5 minutes before she gently told me that my running shoes were likely 95% (if not 100%) of the problem. She paused awaiting my response briefly, then continued slowly: my shoes are so weathered and disfigured (I prefer thoroughly loved) that they have over time not only altered both my walking and running mechanics, but they have now contributed to my significant hip muscle weakness and misalignment.
The problem was bigger and yet shamefully smaller, simpler even than I expected. I felt a surge of embarrassment in front of this fit, active sports medicine PT; y’all, I was mortified!
But there is a backstory here worth telling (isn’t there usually one?).
Most committed long distance runners change their running shoes every few months or once they hit a certain mileage. My running shoes have been good to me; but they are 11 stinking years old. They have been with me a third of my life, longer than most people in my life. They trained for the Chicago marathon with me, often times at 4am before my morning rounds at the hospital. They have provided my joints stability during long cancer surgeries in my years as a general surgery resident. And they road tripped with us not once but twice across the country.
My husband Tim on the other hand does not share my love for these beaten shoes. When we first got married, he offered to buy me a new pair, not once but multiple times. I would roll my eyes to the back of my head and look at him each time with sheer incredulity. Are you even serious right now, I would say to myself. It’s not that simple as a runner and he obviously didn’t get it. One doesn’t just “get another pair” when it comes to running shoes. On a few occasions, when he would grow exacerbated of the back and forth he actually went out on his own and bought me new running shoes, and each time, I refused them abjectly for all sorts of reasons… They weren’t broken in, were “too heavy”, didn’t have enough stability…. or were flat out “ugly”. And frankly they weren’t my shoes.
In the physical therapist’s office, I don’t know if it was the emotional and physical fatigue of this season, a bruised ego, or the first pings of grief as I wrapped my mind around letting go finally of these shoes, but my voice cracked and I fought back tears. The reality started to set in that my pure love and appreciation for my shoes had somehow evolved from a sweet sentimental attachment to a ferocious grip on something that was actively hurting me.
Reflecting on this, I am reminded that every good and perfect thing comes from God; it is all His ultimately though they are beautiful gifts and treasures that He asks us to steward. He asks us to hold all things (even running shoes) from him, as Abraham held Isaac, with an open hand. The Holy Spirit gently reminded me, that as a child of God even in hard spaces, I do not have to live from a space of emotional and spiritual poverty or lack. He has always provided and He will always provide for me. And it is my confidence in His provision and His deep abiding love for me that allows me to hold all good things with an open hand…. and let go when He tells me it’s time to let go.
A few things He is currently asking me to hold with an open hand to him:
- My running: Like my running shoes, will I make the familiar an idol in life and be more attached to things that bring comfort than the God of comfort Himself? Or will I trust God to help me put on new shoes, break in the new shoes no matter how clunky they may feel initially, take a new path, and do a new thing in my journey?
- My humanity as a physician: As a pathologist I make lots of correct diagnoses… but in my 2ish years of solo practice, I have made a few errors already much to my mortification. Sometimes it’s a small typo in my report. Other times, there is more to the diagnosis than I initially thought. Each time, I have worked with the colleague and the patient to ensure that they get the correct information and treatment. I am left frequently ashamed and confronted by so much self-doubt. Underneath all of that, I am faced with an important question: do I trust God to help me grow through this in spite of the discomfort and help me grow in humility to be a more thoughtful and knowledgeable doctor through this or will I tighten my grip on perfectionism and throw in the towel for fear of mistakes?
- My marriage: when my husband gives me advice gently, even though he is not the runner in the marriage will I honor him in love by listening to his heart? Can I trust that sometimes God will give him a specific vision and perspective that is essential for my own life, well being, and faithwalk? Or will I be dismissive and insist on my own experiences and perspectives as being more important?
- My daughter: do I trust God to unfold her beautiful story as He designed or will I tighten my grip on her story, by impressing my own expectations (rather than His) on her?
Friends, what is God asking you to release your own deathly-tight grip on today? Are there shoes you have been wearing that you have outgrown? Perhaps they are no longer helping but now hurting you or your loved ones? Maybe it’s that habit you have been wanting to get help for dropping. Or the relationship you need to close the door on. Or the career or ministry opportunity you need to finally say yes to even if you don’t know how it will all come together. My prayer for you is that God will open your eyes to His abundant provision in your own life and give you courage (and the freedom!) to live with all near and dear to you with an open hand before him.
With love,
Ifeoma
Miles of Courage 